The Candyman Can
by Shiny-kun
Summary: Because Urahara kept putting candy in his freakin pockets! Slight UraHitsu


The Candy Man Can

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Because Urahara kept putting candy in his freakin pockets! Slight UraHitsu

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They were barely two month off from the Winter War, and it seemed that no one took it seriously. Kurosaki was still missing, slinking off when he thought no one was watching to a place they all knew about. Ayasegawa and Madarame were staying at some human's residence, and apparently Ayasegawa found it hilarious when Madarame turned up in a pink shirt. Kuchiki had returned to Soul Society, bringing Inoue Orihime with her. Matsumoto had free reign of the apartment, which turned out to be a grievous oversight when he put out the fourth fire in as many days.

Hitsugaya Toshiro preferred to spend his free time on the roof. He was currently sitting on top of Inoue's apartment building, neck craned back and facing the sky. His eyes were shut, blocking out the last shreds of the setting sun. The stars would come out soon and he would go inside and attempt to stop Matsumoto from burning down the whole complex.

He sighed and rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. He was getting a crick there. Stupid Gigai. He cursed under his breath, brow furrowing at his new line of thought. It seemed that his recent lines of though were bringing him to one person. Urahara Kisuke, former 12th division Captain and current owner of Urahara Shoten, was not far from his thoughts.

But not for those reasons. It seemed that the shop owner had taken an almost unhealthy interest in the Juban Taicho, making Hitsugaya feel just downright pissed. The man had the oddest way of expressing himself. It all started a week ago when they had just returned from the Shoten, checking on the progress of Abarai and Sado, and Hitsugaya was downright livid.

The man had welcomed them in. Normal enough. He had offered them tea, normal, especially since Urahara was a tea enthusiast. He had offered them cake, Rangiku giddily happy at the prospect. He had refused, not one much for sweets, ignoring the whining complaints of his lieutenant. Urahara frowned and pushed the small plate towards him.

The more he refused, the more Urahara dropped the hints.

"Do you hate sweets, Hitsugaya-san?"

Luckily, his own fukutaichou opened her big mouth. Hitsugaya actually found himself glad that Matsumoto had come with him, which was a rare thing indeed.

"Taicho isn't fond of them, neh?" she said pleasantly, finishing the last part of her chocolate cake. He merely grunted in response, throwing a grateful look at his fukutaichou. The woman beamed, her own distinctive yay-I-did-something-right look.

It took only ten minutes for Urahara to revert to dirty tactics. Then it hit Hitsugaya that he was being black-mailed into eating cake. He sighed, pulling the plate towards himself, almost resigning himself to the sickeningly sweet desert. Luckily, it seemed that Abarai went a little postal with Hihio Zabimaru and smashed Sado into the basement wall.

Urahara turned to look and in a flash, Hitsugaya slid his desert to Matsumoto. The woman consumed it at such a speed that would have man the Flash Goddess Yoruichi blush. The plate was back in front of him almost before it had left, and Hitsugaya considered giving the busty woman a raise. Or at this rate, more cake.

Hitsugaya froze, feeling reiatsu coming closer to him. Upon detecting who it was, he resumed his musings.

He should have known better.

"Taichoooooo…"

He flinched; the almighty Juban taicho and all round icy bastard actually flinched. Matsumoto crashed his small head into her cleavage, arms wrapping around him from behind. Oh well, at least he could breath this time. When they had first met, she nearly killed him.

"Time to come in, Taicho," she hummed happily, swishing him from side to side. Hitsugaya grunted, desperately thinking of a way to get rid of her. He should have known never to encourage her; it was a headache in the making. When he didn't move, she toppled down behind him, still holding him. Hitsugaya would have protested if he knew that it wasn't futile.

He leant back against her, propping his small back against her front. She loved it when he did this, showed some small form of affection. Hitsugaya felt the tension beginning to leave his body as his fukutaichou massaged his shoulder with one of her larger hands.

"Your too stressed," she said simply, one of her rare statements that actually meant something. He could feel her other hand rustling around the hem of his shirt, and took no notice of it. It took a lot to deter Matsumoto from doing anything, and after one hundred years with her, he had only just gotten her to stop playing 'dress up the Taicho'. Seriously, just because he looked like a child, didn't mean he was.

"Aa"

"Don't worry, Taicho," it came out muffled, almost as if something was obstructing her words. He felt an angry tick pulse at his temples, teeth grinding together and hands fisting. He tilted his head up and looked at her face. She had a guilty look on her face, lollipop stick hanging out of her mouth.

"Matsumoto," it came out as an angry growl

"Hai?"

"Where did you get that?" again, another growl.

"Ah… ano…" she stuttered, trying to find an answer that wouldn't drive her captain into mass murder. He pulled away from her, standing up and digging around his pockets. Matsumoto rubbed the back of his head, smiling guiltily.

"I. Hate. Him"

"Taicho, Urahara-san's not that bad," she said, trying to calm the smaller man.

Hitsugaya turned to her, absolutely livid. He was over three hundred years old, a captain of the Gotei 13, and people were ought to respect him, even fear him. Urahara wouldn't do this to Kuchiki-Taicho, would he? No, because Kuchiki-Taicho would beat him to oblivion if he did. So why Urahara thought he could get away with it with Hitsugaya was beyond him.

"He keeps putting candy in my freaking pockets!"

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Because it makes me smile.

And Urahara owns a candy shop. All that sugar has to go somewhere. Mayst as well be Hitsu-chan.

Should I make this a series, or leave it stand alone? Imput appreciated and rewarded with a cookie and a hug. From across the net.

Wooh ~


End file.
